


Icarus

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angel Wings, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Infidelity, Love Triangles, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Canon Compliant, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 16:47:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17964311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You're arranged to marry in asgard, but you fall in love with a dark prince.





	Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> Self indulgent MESS I've been writing between classes. Enjoy :"

You had been waiting for summer a very long time, it felt like years. It felt nice to throw open the windows and feel the fresh ocean breeze, carrying sea salt billow in. Sunlight dances down curtains like kids playing on a slide, there's tender gorgeous warmth as color lights up the palace. 

Sometimes people sweat and stink, but it's better than being alone.

Your mother was speaking to some Asgardian nobles in the hallway. Queen Frigga gives you a knowing nod and weaved her way out of the crowd. 

"Would you like something to drink? Something cold. Those are always good this time of year." Silent footfalls, her eyes grow out of focus, as though she is thinking of something else. "You know, I do think you'll enjoy it here. It's very classy. Norns willing, you'll get along with my sons."

Hopefully. Speak of the devils, you hear it then. Capes flutter, limbs scatter, "It'll be a wonderful adventure!"

And you see him.

You pause to take in the sight. You can make out details of his eyelashes, they flutter once. Like the wingbeats of seagulls, or something else. Then he looks up.

"Thor, Loki," you think she's grinning, and makes a little gesture of introduction. She says your name. 

Thor is first, he who shines like the sun and speaks like you are not right in front of him. "It's a pleasure, we've heard much about you! I hope you'll come to think of Asgardia as your home, just as much as it is ours."

You think you are grinning. "It's an honor to meet you, my lord."

Then, the hanging moon, who coils around you like mist. He grins in a way that alludes to hidden meanings, "I am Loki, it's my genuine pleasure. I am trying my damnedest to get away from my brother right now, and the task of entertaining you is a burden upon my very being, a purpose that's overcome my very soul." Thor pouts and glances at him.

You divert you eyes for a moment. The second son of Odin, you think, is very blunt. You had gained a few things from stories, but you had no idea what Asgard would truly be like. Its ruler was a wise and proud lord of warriors, with an elegant woman by his side, just as fierce. It was intimidating to be so far home - especially when in the face of someone so - wicked.

"I am glad that my being here has affected you so profoundly." You smile. It is a movement that came to you easily. You've been smiling an awful lot in preparation. 

"You've put me in a very awkward position and I feel near obligated to join you.

"Wonderful. Let's go on then. It's so hot, far too hot for adventuring." Loki offers his arm which you feel obliged to take. The sun shines through white lights. "There's a book lounge nearby. It's really very classy. All wooden and stuff, oak bookshelves and a twelve foot high ceiling. An ebony bar and ladders that I'm not quite sure function, but we can find out. There are round tables with little padded velvety armchairs, sofas, and a coffee table. I hope you'll enjoy it?"

"I'm sure I will, and I'd love to go with you."

"Literature, quiet jazz, a coffee or two."

"That's life."

"Not sure if it's quite my thing for the summer, but I'd love it because of the atmosphere. The smell in the air the unsaid things. And of course, only if you'll like it." He leads you down the broad hallway. Your heels click along cobblestone

The palace is like a maze. A maze with really dangerous architecture. You don't end up at the library.

Loki was still grasping your arm, and gazed out over the garden that greeted you upon opening the magnificent door you almost felt bad touching, lush and brightly lit. There were twelve rose bushes total, arranged in two lines of six, with a few feet between each.

Walking forward, Loki pulled a dead bud from one plant, dropping it to the ground where it tumbled away in the light breeze.

He idly ran his hands over the plant, but jerked back when he felt the pinch of a thorn on his index finger, there was a ruby bead of blood forming on the tip of his finger, a stark contrast to his pale white skin.

"Why'd you bring me here?" You manage to whisper, glancing at him.

"You don't like it?"

You glance around. A white lie, surrounded by thorns, where only the two of you stepped. A break from the sterile corridors and claustrophobic rooms. A paradise, for someone who never managed to fit in. "No, it's nice."

He smiles at you for a moment, and then flops back against a tree. "We can go, if you like. But I like it here."

"Me too." You digress. It was a strange thing he did, leading you out here, but it was likely to misdirect his brother. You could empathize with that.

"How are you enjoying Asgard thus far?" 

"It's very different from where I am from. I've been preparing to come here, but there's no way to prepare for interaction." He nods and you continue, "Sometimes a book will describe a character about to go to a party, doing secret things like practicing a greeting in the mirror so they can look the coolest when they do it in reality. I can't confirm or deny if I've done that, I don't remember, but I think it’s interesting that that like an omniscient third person narrator presentation of that behavior might be the only way someone could be clued into it as a valid tactic. To be shown that other people were doing it, and the character had never read that book, they’d be completely helpless in the socialization arms race."

Loki is silent for a minute. "You talk a lot, and you have gone an awful long time without blinking." You feel a sting in your eyes and he laughs. "I think if a book shows that behavior, then the writers might be intending to say that repeating that behavior is a stupid joke, thereby making you a stupid joke. Or maybe they’d be going for relatability. There's no way to be sure, but if you want to know the truth," you make brief eye contact, "I've done that. I do it all the time. And I always make a fool of myself, no matter what."

You laugh. You weren't expecting him to say anything like that. "I'm sure it's hard for someone like you to ever come off as ignorant, or below." 

"You'd be surprised, my friend." There is a slight hint of pain in his tone, but perhaps it is imagined. There is silence for a moment.

Noticing that his eyes had fallen shut in a sort of contented manner, you stood and your arms daintily reached above your head and below your neck to the tight corset that bound them, using deft fingers to pull out strings one by one.

His eyes open when your shirt is off, your midsection exposed, and his eyes bulge nearly through their sockets, "I - ah, what are you - "

And they spread out, white wings shimmered in sunlight. You arch your back a bit, feeling the burn in your back and spine from keeping them idle so long and letting them stretch out above you, near doubling your height.

Loki scrambles up. He was not expecting this, "I wasn't aware that, ah, people from where you are had - um - "

"Wings." You smile at him and he reclines a bit.

"I see. What do you use them for?"

You begin to pace around him, bare feet going pat-pat on fresh dirt. "You know, keeping people safe from journeys, making students pass their exams, ensuring gamblers win their bets."

Loki tipped his head. You didn't bother to look back at him. "Your people, do they all - "

You intended to point at him when you reached a full 360°, but your finger landed on his nose. "It was only my brother, he whom my parents sculpted from metal - not wax, like his predecessor. He was always the most beautiful of us, my eldest brother. The darling son. The heir apparent. Wherever he walked, others stopped to stare. Whenever he spoke, silence would descend until only his voice rang out. I was beautiful too, of course, a combination of physical perfection and martial knowledge, but I had lost one game of poker in my long life. My brother could do no wrong." 

His eyes meet yours and you grab his hands to sit down under that tree, you in front of him, both cross-legged. Your wings sweep out, long feathers falling out of places and he kind of wants to stroke them, but he suppresses the desire. They block him from the sun.

"He carried these accomplishments with grace and humility. He was the greatest of us in such a way that you could feel no jealousy. Does the ant envy the lion? He took it the hardest then, when Father's attention wavered. He had sired new children and his time was devoted to them, his door locked to us for the first time. I shrugged it off and turned my attention to further study, to ensure the realm was protected. My younger brother took to my example and we found solace in each other's company. Try as we might, we could not convince our eldest brother to do the same. He was persuasive, effortlessly charismatic. And so, his plan was hidden from me until it was too late. I awoke one morning to the warning horns bellowing out and the sight of neighbor turned upon neighbor in a bloody struggle. I glanced to the huge marble doors where Father remained hidden, willing for him to return to us and intervene in our time of need. As i raced towards them, shining blade in hand, I saw him," 

Loki noticed your breath catch, and put a comforting hand on your knee. You were quite the storyteller up to that point, he thought. 

He asks, "Why did he suffer?"

You place your hand on his, "Because he was blessed with flight. The purpose of his existence was to comfort those who desperately dreamed of leaving the ground, only to then spread his wings and leave them behind on the earth they detested so much. That is why he continued, even though it was impossible for him to help any of them. Unlike the other guardians, who were able to change the lives of their protectees who longed for love or fortune, my brother could do nothing to soothe the ache in the chests of those who wanted to fly. The guilt of being what they wanted to be but never could, fuelled his determination to help in any way he could, and he dedicated his life to it.”

"And then what?"

"He could take it no longer, he removed his feathers out and he gifted them to me, before falling into the ocean."

Loki stares at you, wide eyes, with an expression you can't exactly read. Shock, maybe disgust? No, but there might have been longing in there somewhere.

You grab his hand and rush to the edge of the hill, where you two face each other. Then, faster than he knew you could move, you stand behind him with your arms folded tightly around his midsection.

You put your head on his shoulder, "Would you like to fly this way? You seem very fascinated."

His heart is beating very fast for some reason. You can hear a shaky, "Yes, I'd like that."

You grab him tighter and leap. Louder and louder the wings hummed as you flew higher into the air and the endless blue of the sky. Soon the wings humming drowned out the sound of the wind, then the sound of thought, but not the sound of Loki's laughter. 

Higher and higher you both went, ignoring time and the world around you. With every beat of your wings Loki's smile seems to grow. 

He had gotten a good look at most of Asgard spread out under him before you had finally set him back upon the ground - where he smiled like the most content man on Earth.

"That was... Something. I thought you were going to monologue about how heavy the burden of your wings was or something, but that was the most fun I've ever had!" He collapses next to you, "I bet you're great at parties."

You huff and collapse next to him. "I do hope the man I'm promised for will enjoy it. What's his name again?"

Loki laughs with a loud and somewhat embarrassing snort before sitting up and looking at you, "You forgot the name of the very reason that you're here? Makes sense since we were up for such a long time, you don't get lightheaded?"

"We were only airborne for 6 minutes. I pity your lover if you think 6 minutes is a long time." And to your surprise he does not do the toxic masculine thing, rather, laughs in a way that shakes his whole body. You cannot help but to laugh along with him.

"Idirus." He says after a moment, "his name is Idrius. He makes bad jokes sometimes, but he is a good man. I hope you like him." Loki's hand settles over yours.

"Yeah," you mutter, "I hope I like him too."

*

You liked him. He plays an exquisite golden instrument, and does not see you. It is as if though he is in a trance. The melody is haunting, but beautiful. It floats around the living chambers and transports you to another time. The melody speeds up, and Idrius picks out notes that shouldn't work together - dissonant flats and sharps, majors and minors that should never touch. They crash like thunder and silence any greeting in your throat. 

He plays faster still; the room tosses and turns and then he stops. You don't know why, but you are clapping when he opens his eyes. Slowly first, then faster and louder.

"That was - amazing!"

"I've had an eternity to practice."

A trio of sleek long-legged hounds swirled around you. The room is lit by the shade of orange banker lamps, and in the shadows you can see his brass buttoned coat, as though he too had just arrived. Tight black strands frame his forehead, cascade down the small of his back, he tugs leather gloves off one at a time. 

"I hate to ask things of you so early in our engagement, but could you drop a log onto the fire?"

You tack across the room and stir the coals to life. In the corner, you realize, is a spindly figure camped sleepily in an armchair made for a much smaller man. Loki offers you a wink.

"I see my companion gave you a scare." Idirus remarked while inclining his hand, "Have you met the crown prince? He's a dear friend."

You smile, "Not in person, I've been far too afraid. Supposedly he has crushed the windpipe of a bilgesnipe with his bare hands."

Idirus' expression does not change, "They say he's tricked a blind man into killing another."

Loki unfolds his limbs and stands in the way that reminds you of a snake, "Others say he's grabbed the muzzle of a stray dog and cut out its eyes just to innure himself to the suffering of other beings." Veins climb up his arms like vines and he stalks toward you as though you are prey -

And then you all start laughing. That goes on for a few seconds before you say, "We live in exceptional times, my friends."

"That we do." Idirus presses his palms flat to the desk before him, smiling absentmindedly as if waiting for a thought to pass. You are filled with a foreboding feeling for a moment, but then Loki looks back at you and the feeling subsides. Idirus says, "I feel as though, our lives can be determined by two things. Our interests, and the interests of time. Would you agree?"

A thrill enters your chest. Firelit rooms lined with books - those are the places in which important things happen. "Yes. Yes, I agree." You stepped back to include Loki in the conversation.

He inclines his head in response, "Good. We'll start tomorrow."

Asgardians kept many secrets, really. For a good twelve hours you genuinely had no idea what he was talking about - and still had no idea when he grabbed your hand and lead you to the wood library. 

You're sitting on numerous velvet cushions, rich furs and soft quilts underneath you, in a rather inconvenient spot in the middle of the library.

"I feel as though this isn't a friendly get-together." You remark.

"And you are wrong. Although the intentions of this meeting lie just a bit in the realm of professionalism." He declares, "You said yesterday that your brother was sculpted of metal and plucked out his wings to give to you. That sounds to me like - very advanced seidr." 

"Loki." You put a hand up.

"Forgive me if I am imposing, but I want to have you tell me of your own free will, I cannot stop thinking - "

"Cold drinks are nice, right?" You place the side of your palm on his mouth, ceasing his bubbling laughter, "It's funny how even if you're not thirsty, a good drink makes you feel like you've been dehydrated for a long time. Opposites contrast each other and emphasize the differences. While it'd be nice and cool on the inside, outside it's still sweltering and skin keeps on burning. A dynamic seperation between two worlds. Things within don't know what's happening outside. And someone outside wouldn't be able to gaze in." You, somewhat tactlessly, shift around in your chair so your back was to him. "See those things on my back? Unclasp them." His hands graze your back as you feel deft fingers pull and prod.

He picks up where you left off, "I think, what people perceive outside are only superficial shells and vague impressions. If one decides to throw up a facade of some sort, then the divergence between the inner and outer would increase." The clasps slip off and your wings emerge almost shyly, "Furthermore, this external facade arrives like an encrypted message to the receiver who is a flawed decoder, misinterpreting it all according to their own unique algorithms and preconstruced systems." Your wings stretch out more freely and he reaches out. "May I...?"

You take his fingers in yours and guide them to where they meet your flesh. He begins to stroke them a bit and you preen at the sensation.

"Tell me, Prince," you grab a lose piece of paper, turn around so that you are facing him again, and write on it, do you know what this is?"

 ℓ=d/tan(α)+d/tan(β)

“A formula, of course.”

“Do you comprehend its uses?”

“I believe it is a way to use two known points to find the location of a third and unknown point.”

"Lord Prince, If I give you the known points and a distance between them, can you solve it? Can you draw the triangle?”

At that moment, he swatted your hand away. "I've taught myself 300 years of this to cast my first illusion," he declared, "to understand the infinite space in the universe and to construct a space in which infinitely much space could exist inside - "

"Can you solve it?"

He begins to scribble - tan α = sin α / cos α

sin ( α + β) = sin α cos β+ cos α sin β

Now d can be moved to the front of the equation. 

Loki plugs the numbers into the equation. He imagines two observers in a field pacing out the distance between them, then leveling their eyes on a far-off landmark: a sailing ship or a smokestack. When he asks for a slide rule, you slip one to him immediately, having expected the request. Eventually he says, “Sixteen point four three." He draws the triangle and labels the distances of each segment and passes the paper back. 

You stare at him for a moment. "And, using concise calculations such as these, you can use your seidr, correct?"

"Of course. After intensive study it became second nature to me, enough so that I no longer need to perform such calculations. My body has such things memorized."

You sigh briefly, shifting so that you are very nearly pressing your side against him. "This might be a bit hard to explain. You might think my people archaic." You shift then so that you are lying with your head propped onto your hand. 

You catch him frowning a bit, and fear some kind of anger in retaliation - but all he does is shake his head. "I wouldn't. You're an impeccable representative - and the technology from your land seems to be - dare I say - almost beyond my comprehension."

You're lying next to each other on the makeshift bed, and you coil a bit closer to him - right wing almost stretching over his back. "Where I'm from, way back in the before days, we would use such algorithms to do things like - send messages. Create archives accessable to anyone, anywhere. Turn on light with a flick of a switch. It wasn't until much later that we attained the knowledge of things like seidr and actual alchemy - and a lot of the things we did with our technology destroyed the planet."

He goes flat on his back and gives you an introspective look. "Venus, planet of love, destroyed by its own people." His voice sounded strange. Perhaps he was beginning to realize what a disgrace you would be to Asgard, marrying a diplomat. Surely you had no business here?

Rather, he just looked up at you. His eyes had no trace of resentment. And all of a sudden, you could not shake the feeling that this is exactly where you belong - deep in the pursuit of knowledge. Loki suits this room, just as he so wonderfully suits being by your side - bodies lying parallel, almost touching.

"I miss it," your voice cracks, "my home."

His hand caresses your cheek.

"Every time I manage to delude myself it gives me a feeling of extreme purity and clarity, but every time I remember how I actually am it feels like unimaginable inescapable corruption and hopelessness."

His other hand splays on your waist, "Do not torture yourself by trying to vividly envision ideal situations. You belong grounded in reality, that does not mean you are..."

"Completely drained, muted, flattened, desaturated, all potential nullified. I feel like I am. I do. I'm stuck here, on a world not my own, promised to someone. To spend my life with him."

He stares at you. "You're incredible."

"I am a product of my circumstances. My world."

"You will explain such things to me my friend, surely?" His voice pitched up at the end as though he feared your response.

You feign a struggle for a moment, pouting your lips, "I suppose that teaching you things like that would be a big commitment. What do I get in return?"

A breath, "Anything," hands are gently placed on your shoulders, "anything you so desire, I'm willing to risk in my pursuit of knowledge," you felt warm abs concave you, "ask for all the stars in the sky," the bare flicker of his eyes butterfly kissed your neck, "and they should be yours."

Breathe in fresh air. You softly spoke. "I wouldn't mind," a touch, "telling you."

Your wings stretch out in front of you, covering your body like a shell. You admire his gaze from above them - peeking at you.

You are together. Untroubled.

Your wings fall back, limp at a chaste kiss. They are administered, the warm impetus of a hug. The barest twitch of both your lips, the downward stroke of spindly figures. You smile, let's bloom red together.

It's as though you are seeing the world in pink.

*

Autumn arrived with gusts of wind and the most beautiful changes you'd ever seen. 

You and Idirus traveled at crepuscular, cool wind blowing just gently enough to stir some leaves from the trees. He wanders, cloak hanging off his shoulder, ocarina in hand. You don't know what to expect.

"You haven't divulged much about where your from," he says, interrupting your thoughts, "I'm curious." 

A fire lit behind your eyes. "You could never go long where I'm from without seeing a thing or two that made your head turn. Living there, I thought I'd seen everything the world had to offer - that is," suddenly, his eyes burned into yours. "Until I came here, and saw..."

He laughs, full and loud and in a way that draws your attention to his chest. He was alluring, beautiful, even, and kind, too. You wondered how he'd feel knowing that you fell in love with the wrong person. 

Three things contributed to him standing in front of you, feet dancing up the cobbled path, through the peppery beams of sunlight and silver September evening, and his newfound fondness for his spouse-to-be was only one of them.

"What are you doing?"

He stared at you with wide eyes. They were not beady or bright, rather a fading brown; welcoming, like honey you could nearly taste. He had smiled at you! Those scars you felt inside of you - that you'd always felt inside, had suddenly been coated by something sweet. Treacle, you pondered. By the very least, something hopeful. 

"I'd, ah, like to show you something my mother once taught me. In these woods," his ocarina rises just hovering above his lips, "there are all sorts of creatures. They some some bring luck, while others are scorned. One of them is called Skoll. He is known to inhibit dreams and causes his targets to have unending nightmares, but he only does this as a defense mechanism."

"Defense? I hear that this forest is the most peaceful in all the nine realms."

"On the outside. You are standing," he holds out his arms, "where all life began. Underneath us, eating away at the roots," he stomps the ground twice as if to make a point, "is Nidhogg, the snake gnawing at the world tree. And we lie at the border - which means Jormungand encircles all life here. There are beasts of all manners, big and small."

It takes you a minute to absorb everything around you. The quiet crunch of leaves, the trickling from the waterfalls and streams that surrounded you - life itself was at equilibrium. 

"Every morning, Hati brings the daylight with the hunt, and every night, Skoll brings the darkness - here in this spot. If you play close attention, you can hear them humming." 

With that statement, he puts the ocarina to his lips and a tune gently pours out - a noise that beats against your ears along with the chirps of different animals. It was an utterly beautiful, complex piece that damn near moved you to sadness because it had no audience other than you alone. 

You listened, taking the song in its entirety when the world around you began to grow brighter and brighter. You dared to look up, noticing that all the shadows in the forest had collected and were gathering overhead into some fog like ghastly plume billowing across the sky. Looking closely, you made out distinct teeth, a snout, eyes and ears, sauntering from cloud to cloud. 

For a moment, just a moment, it looked down.

And then the song ended. It was gone.

You let out a breath you weren't aware that you were holding, and Idrius rushes to your side.

"That was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen." You breathed.

Heart longing, mind racing, Idrius replied, "I hardly noticed."

You told Loki about it at night, tangled up in each other and the vines of that very same forest - giddy and coy in the throes of each other - the stars being the only witness to your affair. Eyes fixated on one another - the awkward stones and slippery moss were no match for your amorous symbiosis. 

Hand in hand, he lead you to the edge of a cliff where Jormungand whisked about the waters beneath. 

"The garden of life is spread out before us," he said, "and the in between every corner that this windy path takes."

"That is true," you turn to look at him again - hair tousled by your fingers and the cool night wind, shirt not nearly buttoned enough to protect him from thr cold, "but I feel like it pales compared to the life between me and you."

The serpant gurgled and groaned beneath, as though protesting your challenge. 

Loki laughs, a deep, rich, throaty laugh that pulls at your heartstrings. Everytime he smiled, your goofy one returned the favor and he was having trouble processing that anything could be so perfect. 

Everything that was an extension of him resonated through you, "Could you show me the origins here? Where night and day met and life began?" 

Loki smiled almost ferally, "Back in the day, I would come here in a disassociative state and commit attrocities." A wolfs howl from somewhere seems to agree. 

"Lovely," you muttered.

"I have all sorts of stories to tell - when I pulled all the floorboards out of Thor's room, or when I tried to stop the sun from rising - oh! Or when I got a storm giant to commit tax fraud. All manners of things have happened here, where life began."

"I could add another to that list." you say, gradually inching towards him in the manner a snake might and letting your wings come free from their binds. Before he could protest, you grab him so that he is dangling by his armpits, close enough to serpant infested waters that his feet could dip into them. When you notice his eyes widening, you nearly catapult yourself up and readjust him so that he is hanging on by your neck. His hands settled into the hair by the nape of your neck, stroking with his fingers. He inhaled sharply as you rubbed circles into the small of his back and gave him a gentle kiss.

And just as he got comfortable, you let your wings fall limp and you both hurdle towards the ground. He didn't even have time to yell before you were off horizontally, letting him assess how different the world was from a birds eye view. 

You settled him back down on the hill, gently then, as he appeared to still be reeling from what had just occurred. You grinned, "So?" 

"That was - admittedly not the most exciting thing I've done here, but - " he is silenced upon feeling the line of one of his ribs met with your tongue, "-alright! You win!"

All of a sudden you loomed over him, kissing him with a ferocity that demanded equal attention. He let his body slink under yours and began applying wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck. He was delighted to learn that your legs would coil around his in the depths of pleasure, and that your wings would expand and contract. 

It was in that field of flowers that you made love for the second time. To Loki who laid under you, he thought the sky was so endless that he might fall and land among the clouds. 

When the two of you were done - your cheek pressed to his breastbone, deft hands rubbing slow circles to your thighs, you asked him, "Is this alright?"

He stares at you hot and heavy with half-lidded eyes, "Of course it's alright. More than alright. More than I've ever wanted."

His eyes widen when he notices the film of tears in yours, "But I am - I'm - "

He holds you closer, if that were possible. "Every heartbeat I've shared with you is worth more to me than every century I've lived without you by my side. Surely you must know," he reaches down for your hand and presses it to his heart - where it seemed to beat as quickly and in unison with yours, "That we are here as one."

You draw back to look at him and he chuckles. "Don't pretend to be a romantic, greasy." You notice a quick flash of fear in his eyes, "What if we get caught? What will happen when I get married? Will I just have to leave you be? I don't want - I don't think I could bare - "

He shushes you by squeezing your hand. It is a small gesture, but one delicate enough to cause tears. "It's going to be alright. There is no wedding going on this moment. It's just me, you, and the giant serpant that rotates around the world." The sea churned in agreement. 

You spent the whole night like that, wrapped in each other's arms, distracted enough so that neither of you noticed it was nearly the break of dawn. 

He roused you quickly as possible, insisting that you pay close attention to the sky. It came quickly - Hati hunting the sun and bringing the daylight with him, the beasts of the field hid from the face of the sky. 

When it was over you leaned against him. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure. I doubt I've ever been this happy."

"Me neither.

* 

They called that winter the great uneven. 

You got the feeling, some days, that this shouldn't be, that when the winds of winter were passing the Uneven time should not have been. It was almost a respite from real seasons, but it felt more true than anything you had ever experienced.

Truth, a funny, fickle thing. Surely it had no place with you. You, who had an illicit affair with a man that you were not promised to. 

The sun's zenith was marked with a cleansing shower, a stark contrast from the typical freeze and blizzards. It felt like a calm restitution from the other less pleasent variety, but blistering heat and scorching sands lately seemed to follow you wherever you went. 

Thunder cracked outside as you curled into Loki's lean figure. "We used to fight during these storms. Slaughtering men during the afternoon sprinkle. I never knew why, but I knew it had to be so. What bygone Norns of men saw it fit to let us perish and torture and burn under their watchful eyes and do nothing? War, envy, and hate were all reflected in the Uneven."

You made a little noise in your throat. "It was like that often, with my father's children. Whenever we would go to check on their realm, no matter what time of year, I never could comprehend it - it was as if everything I felt was amplified. Rage for the quakes that surrendered the northern shores. Treachery as the Eastern crags ran over with lava-like blood, despair shrouding the dark forests of the west."

He held your face to his for a moment, running his nose along yours in a strangely affectionate gesture. Your form was enveloped in lamplight, and the sight of his skin on yours awakened something soft within him, and sweet words blossomed on his tongue. "It sounds... Awful. I'd take those memories from you, if I could."

"It was, in a way, but it made me who I am." You settled yourself between his legs and kissed his neck. It was nice for a moment, tranquil, as you leaned into him and his hand gently caught your throat, making your head fall back - 

\- and the door hissed open. Loki was off of you in a moment, his eyes not giving a thing away. He wasn't even breathing heavily as he was. 

"I thought I'd find you here." Idirus walks in and you try to smile at him, because he is very sweet, but he could be the kindest person in the world and you'd still hate him for interrupting. 

He takes a seat next to you and gestures for you to get off the floor - a compromising position - and you quickly grab his hand and make your way next to him on the small seat - knees bent onto his lap, head nuzzled into his neck.

Loki reclines on the couch, silently donning on the intimidating facade he had whenever someone was around, and lets his body stretch out. There were quick flickers of expressions on his face, clenched jaw, furrowed eyebrows, but his kind facade was back before Idirus could even look at him. 

"I'm glad you two have been getting close," says Idirus (causing you to put a hand over your mouth) "I know you're both good at magic, and figured you'd enjoy each other's company." He pets your hair with one hand and you smile into his chest.

Loki inhales sharply. "Indeed. I suppose it's only fair for someone such as myself to treat her to what Asgard has to offer - we will be working together soon enough. Isn't that right?"

You glance at him, "Of course," Idirus rubs circles into your shoulder, "all three of us. You're both splendid to be around, and I see us as all the same."

Idirus pouts in a playful manner, "I hope you'll be treating me a bit more fondly than him." Causing you to laugh and kiss his cheek affectionately, cradling his jaw. Your smile breaks like glass when you look over at Loki stifling laughter, and quickly gesture for him to cut it out.

The expression breaks when Idirus looks back up, placing a gentle hand where you had kissed him. Loki smiles genuinely, "You two will make a fine wedded couple, truly. I look ever forward to the wedding."

You want to disappear out of embarrassment, but Idirus gives you a gentle hug. "I'm looking forward to it, too." 

You sit in silence for a little while. Loki indulges into his book, and Idirus watches the fire as you curl into his side.

"I haven't had a moment like this in a very long time," he says lazily, "I might be content to stay like this with you both forever. But for now, duty calls." He rolls of the seat and kneels down to look you in the eye. "Tell me if Loki gets up to any mischef," this earns a chuckle from both of you, "and I'll see you at dinner." 

He seems to contemplate something for a moment, head tilting. You watch the way the light casts a soft glow on his skin. He leans in ever so slightly to press a gentle kiss to your lips, and pulls away before you so much as get to respond.

And then he leaves.

As soon as you are both sure he is out of earshot, Loki's let's out a deep, rich laugh. "Yes I so suppose we have become rather close."

You smile despite yourself, "I doubt there's much we don't know about each other by now." 

He takes in a breath, "You're so cruel to me, making me watch you fawn over another man while I sit right in front of you." His tone is meant to be playful, but you sense the apprehension in his voice, "I wasn't sure how long my patience would last."

"I'm sorry." You say genuinely, "But I am to be married to him. There's not much I can do - I can't displease your parents, my parents, lest all of us invoke their wrath. If there was a way I could spend all my days with you, any way at all, know that I would choose that option any day."

"But why?" You feel as though there is a canyon between you two all of a sudden, despite being right in front of each other, "He is wonderful, don't you think? Surely the birds sing for him. I am lucky that such a person, if even for a moment, would turn his head to me."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you had a crush." You say cheekily, but you notice his head turned away, "Wait - "

"Did! Once, long ago, as children, but," he clears his throat, "I am ever the more lucky that you'd so much as rear your head towards me, forget loving me the way you do. Perhaps this is wrong, but," he sighs, "My time with you is the best I've ever had. I do adore you."

"The feeling... Isn't mutual," you say stepping off the couch.

"What?"

"You know, I only really keep you around because you're funny sometimes."

You hardly got to let yourself laugh before the weight of Loki's hand on your wrist stops you. She adorns the body of a beautiful woman, "You want to say that again?"

You hug her gently, "There's no need for getting me riled up now, I was only joking. But I think that this proves me right - you'd probably cry if I ever left you alone." And she flings you on the couch and begins tickling you, "I yield! I give up! I love you so much!" And you collapse into giggles with her.

At night, he has you pressed up against an aclove in his bedroom, attacking your neck with kisses. "I've been looking forward to this all day."

"Me too." Your shirt falls off and he admires how different your torso is compared to yours - with broad bones structurally different from hjs and a figure that seemed to collapse on yourself by the hips. He unfurls one of your wings forward and began to kiss it gently.

"Stay with me." He whispers, "Tonight. I want to wake up with you." 

A familiar wave of panic clutches you and you stand. "Loki, I - "

"Please." His voice is so vunerable, it kill you to have to refuse.

"Loki, I, you know I want to but - " you sigh, "-I'll be back." 

He feels guilt at the sight of your tears, but you need the space, to think. If you weren't back in a half hour, he'd go looking for you. 

You settle for a walk, wings clasped tightly your back, it almost hurt. The lower market square was always full of merchants that street kids could buy a small meal from. They didn't know where they got the money - you doubt they really cared. Coin is a coin to a tradesman, why ask any questions? A coin from a streetrat was as good as one from, well you. Not that you'd ever be found down here, until now.

Most of the kids steal to make their coin. Pickpocket an elder Locksman in the Terrantine quarter, or grab a purse off some lust-filled noble sneaking into a lower brothel. They were always good for a few pennies, at least. Not that most of the kids were particularly good thieves. They didn't have to be good, just fast. The best targets won't make a fuss over a copper. Even if a guard spots you, they won't chase you more than a block or two. Not worth their effort.

Even in a normal cloak, you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. But this was a bit more homey to you, more than Frigga's gardens or Loki's bedroom chamber that was bigger than your whole house. For once, you were alone, you could think - alone. 

You stumbled between an aclove between two churches. It felt unusual to see two so close together. You wanted to leave, but something caught your eye. Encased in a circle of alternating black and white bricks, you could see a dark pool of water - a pool of the Norns, not unlike holy water where you're from. In the middle stood a statue of a young boy, no less than ten feet tall. The boy wore a flowing cloak of black with white stripes on his sleeves and around his neck. He wore a chain belt that looked to be made of solid pearl, and stood upon shining onyx greaves. And on his lower left leg, barely visible dipped halfway in the water, there was a small pouch made of blue stone. Across the full statue, I could just make out a thin sheet of water rippling down noiselessly, never breaking surface tension. It gave the boy a shimmering quality, appearing to shift this way or that in the sunlight.

Slowly, you eased your way to it, wanting to pray to God and ask what you should do. The water looked deep, but you thought you could take it, and slowly dipped one foot in - but then you felt hands pulling you down.

As you felt yourself drowning, the image of the statue came back to you. I poured over the boy's appearance in my head, trying to remember every fantastic detail. The way the water rippled over every surface without a drip or splash. The bright white stripes along the boy's sleeves and the deep black stone of his shoes. And that deep blue pouch on his leg. You remembered taking a brief moment to look at it. It sat awkwardly on the leg. Actually, the entire shape of the leg was awkward. Strange that you hadn't noticed before grabbing the coin. At that moment, I dozed off.

I awoke with a startle, to the caws of ravens.

It felt like you were awaking from a long nap, foggy, but refreshed. The ravens encircled you. You just watched them, and it took a little while to realize there was someone else in this space. 

An old man, also observing the ravens. It could only have been -

"Allfather," you say, curling in on yourself, "Forgive me - "

"Worry not, young traveler." He holds up a hand. "You've caused my council here a bit of confusion. Tell me - " one of the ravens dropped a journal in yiur hand. You looked through it - it was your father's, "Do you know what this is?"

"Yes, it belonged to my father." You did not feel interrogated, not rushed. The question made you feel as if your grandfather was asking you what you had for breakfast.

"Icarus? The tale of the man who leaned how to fly."

"Yes, that's him." You remembered your father's dark skin, calloused hands, kindly smile - you remembered his death.

Suddenly, you were hit with a swarm of memories. 

Your brother, and was that - Idirus? stared at the book in awe, a mere hundred years back your father had learned to fly. It became famous for having failed, killing one of the first fliers, warning of the dangers of flight. Your brother didn't see this as a warning to the dangers of flight, but rather a warning of using poor quality materials - wax melts! The two friends would make it better. They started to work, the young boys, almost men, began to work on recreating the legendary wings of Icarcus.

Through their toil they made countless failed prototypes, and earned many years. Your brother's once young face now deeply creased with age, he was no longer a boy, but a man, well past his prime. But those years came with experience and that experience paid off. He made a working prototype of a flying machine. He was too old to work the clockwork wings, so he asked Idirus, who was lighter and stronger than the old man was now.

Idirus the wings on, they hummed softly with clockwork engines, gears interlocked and turned slowly, allowing the wings to slowly flap while your brother stood in a clearing.

Your brother explained to Idirus how the wings worked, and he tested them. As the humming grew louder, and louder, the wings beat faster and faster until the ground fell out from Idrius' feet and he began to rise. Amazed by the sudden freedom of the ground Idrius soared. Your brother cried tears of joy, his dream was real. Metal was much sturdier than wax, there was no way these could melt in the sun like his predecessors wings.

And then you heard whispers. Idirus was a man. Your brother was long gone. Your wings could never be removed - all you had asked for was a piece of the heavens.

A contended squak from one of the ravens woke you up from the memory. You frown. "I didn't... I didn't remember any of that, I - "

"You are a warrior of your people, my friend. It is obvious to me that Sama has changed since I have last roamed its halls, but the stout of the angel's hearts remain the same."

You are plunged back into a memory. 

It's Idirus, pleading with your brother, for a piece of heaven. Just a piece of the sky that your brother, made out of light, could walk. 

But the skies do not take kindly to creatures who try to imitate god, and in the same instance that his hand managed to tear a piece of the firmament out of its ancient resting space, the wings on his back, which had caused him so much guilt and grief, burst into flame. 

You remembered, he had fallen right into the ocean to be swallowed by the serpant - he is the reason water glistens like it does in the sun. 

"Odin Allfather, surely I cannot still marry Idirus?"

"He has fallen in love with you, despite his original intentions."

"I didn't even know that - he knew that I - "

"He has kept secrets from you, just as you have from him. The intentions of your marriage was to further industrialization, form a mercantile bond, but I see now," he stands tall in a way that exudes power, "that it is not my place to think myself worthy of my creators. No matter our technology, Asgardian, Angel, or Human - we are all made of light and mud just the same." He smiles at you

To your surprise, you wake up soaking wet, with Loki clutching your hand with silent tears, and Idrius, unblinking, stroking your wings.

When they noticed you coughing and sputtering, Loki slunk down into your neck, clutching you, and Idrius began to cry tears of relief.

"We thought - dammit, we thought - "

"Idirus," you cut Loki off, "I wasn't aware you knew my brother."

He stops moving. Loki looks between the two of you, noticing the tension, and you place your hands on his arms in an attempt to get up.

"I am sorry. I thought that I - "

"You could what? Take my wings?" Your voice cracks, "Suffer the same fate as him? Become god?" You look him in the eye.

He does not respond.

"Tell me."

Silence.

"Tell me!"

"I am sorry, but the only thing I am loyal to is the dream." 

*

Idirus didn't show up to dinner. You would dine together almost every day, sometimes with Loki or Thor, but always together. You felt as though even though you couldn't love him in that way, you had made a friend. 

But maybe not.

It took a while to explain everything from the before days to Loki, about God and Iblis, about Icarus and your brother, and how way back, all the worlds were connected. 

"That's the reason," you told him, "why he insisted on having me over anyone of my father's children. He knew my brother, he wanted to further his research. I can't even get mad at him." That part was true. You were certain that you respected Idrius and what he was trying to do - seeking knowledge - even if that meant defying the natural order. 

"So now what?" Asked Loki, "Surely my parents won't make you marry him. I doubt we should even stay here."

"I'm sorry, we?"

"Of course we. After all of this, leaving would make me a horrible consort, don't you think? Think about it, if I found out some horrible truth, like, if I was actually a frost giant or something ridiculous or something, would you leave me?"

"Of course not!"

"Exactly. Good thing that's absolutely outside the scope of reality."

"Oh yeah, definitely. What a crazy hypothetical."

"For sure."

You were slicing a peach rather delicately, and took a slice that you held up to Loki's lips. "Once, back in the before days, the dragon Fafnir came to my town with vengance in his gait. He was upset at us for letting humans hunt his kind nearly to extinction, and vowed revenge. He bit my arm and it began to grow black, spreading around my entire body."

"And what'd you do?"

"We were afraid a war would break out between beast and man, so we went down to Midgard to speak with the snakes of Maran, known for their wisdom"

"Nidhog is a Maran," Loki interjected, "She's kind and caring, too."

You tilt your head as he eats the peach from your fingers, letting his tongue curl around them. You try to ignore it. "Isn't she supposed to eat the world tree during Ragnarok?"

"I swear, Ragnarok is the only thing you people care about - we in Asgard are not good or evil. Just fun."

You sighed as he began to kiss your fingers. "I'm sorry, our cultures tend to bastardize everything alien to us. Anyway, to solve the conflict I tried to go to the queen of the Maran, Shahmaran, but a young wood seller named Cemshab cured me with the power of love before I got there."

He dropped your hand, "What do you mean cured you with the power of love?"

You laughed, "Not like that, he told me to see with eyes unclouded by hate. That's what I've been trying to do since. But these are desperate times. Idirus has the knowledge of wings and who I am, and your father is an imperialistic force to be reckoned with, who only wants to conquer. He's bent on conquest"

You sighed and slid over to where Loki sat, where he slung an arm around your shoulders and stroked the place between your wings.

"What Idirus and my father are doing, they want to use technology to hurt the people who use it. They want to make the same mistakes your people once did." He moved his hand down lower your back, rubbing the spot in the center. "It will upset the world balance. It may destroy our planet with - what was it?"

"Global warming."

"Yeah!"

"It's the same concept. My brother thought my father's methods were archaic and dull, and believed he could do better by making his wings of metal. Nonetheless, he still burned when he got too close to the sun. A man cannot challenge the sun. He thought he could rise above the rest of our people, but we are all truly equal. If we let this evil spread too far, if we do not cut it at its root, it will surely take hold of all the nine realms - perhaps even further."

Loki seemed to ponder for a moment. "The ones in power. They will not give us a send off, nor will they wish us good luck. We'll have to end this on our own." He holds his hand out to you.

*

Heimdall raises an elegant brow.

"You mean to betray the Allfather?"

"Yes."

"Good." He inserts the sword into the bridge and walks away, giving you access to the portal.

It was funny, you had never travelled via bifrost before, but you were sure that the technology used would advance your realm years ahead.

You arrived in the small riverbed of the Berdan, in Tarsus. Wind shakes the trees and you take his hand.

"Do you know where to go?" He asks.

"Sure," you tap your forehead, "I just have to use my Ajna." 

And with that word, the dunes around the two of you seemed to dissipate, and you found yourselves in a cave made of glass and glacier - a serpant in front of you.

Not the same sort of serpant that existed in Asgard, no, she had the face of a woman and exuded great power when she slunk toward you.

There was a rose in her hair, petals falling off. Funny, you thought, you wondered if it would sooner wilt than aid in your escape. 

She was very unquestionably beautiful. 

"You do not fear." Her voice was that of silk.

Loki says, "Fear is the mind killer."

"Your father," she leans in close to him, "has reached the psychotic state where he has stopped processing life in realtime on a day-to-day basis, and instead sees it just as variables interacting with each other in the homogeneous repetition of each day."

"We come seeking a solution. We need to stop the spread of weapons, used to wage war against nature."

"You come seeking violence," she quickly retreats into another cavern, "I will not help you."

"We need to destroy the production of technology used to keep a grip on the nine realms. We advocate freedom." Loki sounds firm, "For what is there worth fighting for, if not freedom?" 

She retreats, and chooses to stare into your eyes. "You will stop the production of seidr then, from the pools. It is the entropy, the force that all the realms rely on. Once you do that, you will control the world. You will have the power to destroy, and to give. All eyes will be on you, on Asgard. Every man, animal, angel, beast, demon, all will bow to you. And you must do it before the end of the Great Uneven."

"That is," you could not stop your voice, "an impossible task. That is surely not - "

"SILENCE!"

She commanded, and it was done.

"Have you not roamed filthy streets? Have you not seen people - children - struggling to survive? In a world where your species thrives, where mankind kills and kills and kills and takes away creatures homes, there are people without food. Why don't you tell him. Tell your lover what they would do with it."

Loki reaches out tenaively - "What - "

"Boats. They would take the food they didn't need and put it on boats and wait for it to go bad. If you couldn't afford food, you would starve. If you couldn't afford healthcare you would die." 

He doesn't look too shocked. He probably thought you were joking.

You breathe out shakily,"There was nothing I could have done."

"But that's not true." Her voice is quieter now, "Everyone can do something."

*

"Do you have the spice, Hogan?"

He smirks, shattering the image of the grim, "I have the likes of spice that even god has never seen."

"We will teach a hundred men to destroy the Norn-Pools. Those hundred will teach the remaining thousands." He sat upon Slenipir - whom you both affectionately called Slippy - as you rode through the blizzard that had struck the land.

What use for man to contend with this brutal season, a season that mirrored his own nature? Someone stole the fire from the mountaintop and kindled it in human minds, and to He you cursed and swore and reviled. To understand the primal nature of the world and your tentative place in it - as close to death as a swing of the sword - was to comprehend the will of the designers, and know they didn't care.

Idirus spent most of his time locked up, in his rooms, in the library, it mattered not. The queen, along with your mother, provided for the poor to take refuge in the palace.

Spring would suckle the young, winter would take elders, summer comes the respite, fall the grand harvesting, but as for the Uneven no one knows, and that more than anything frightens me. It should be spring soon, and yet in your bones it feels obvious that summer will never come again.


End file.
